


Fighting the Last War

by Haethel



Series: The Corsair and the Corsetteer [10]
Category: Thief (Video Game 2014), Thief (Video Games)
Genre: Animal Death, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:32:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2734430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haethel/pseuds/Haethel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fighting the last war makes for a losing battle</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The fire basket had smouldered to ashes but there was just enough residual heat to drive the chill from his hands. Garrett hissed softly between his teeth as sensation crawled painfully back into aching joints. He’d get back to searching for the eye in a minute. Just as soon as he could feel his fingers again.

There were several hours yet before dawn, but he was already exhausted. Climbing the clock tower had taken far longer and tired him out far more than it should have done. He’d badly needed the time to rest and recover on the voyage home and during the fortnight he'd spent with Adrian at August’s house, and now he was anxious to regain some sense of control over his life, some feeling of normality. But it would take time to recover from everything that had happened to them during the past months. Adrian wasn’t alright, and neither was he. Garrett hunched his shoulders, ducking his head. Adrian kept telling him to let it go, but every time he saw the leather patch where Adrian’s left eye ought to be, his breath caught against the lump in his throat and he had to fight the need to turn away. If only he’d been faster, been better, had got back to the camp before Adrian paid the price for his failure.

The mechanical eye would be the key to help him make everything right again. When he’d found it in the prison deep below the Moira asylum it had lain in his palm like a dead thing. But bringing it close to his ear he had heard a faint clicking, the dying struggles of a clockwork heartbeat buried within the tiny lenses and rusted gears. It had belonged to someone, once. It had worked, once – it had _seen_. He was certain of it. With the mechanical eye as template, Ector could craft a new eye for Adrian to replace the one Garrett had cost him. He just needed to find it again.

After the Watch had raided his clock tower, had smashed his chests and display cases, stolen everything he owned, Garrett had spent days clearing the worst of the wreckage. Now he was grateful that he’d merely swept the debris into a pile intending to dispose of it later. The mechanical eye was rusted and ugly. The Watch would have thought it worthless. They wouldn’t have taken it with them. It had to be hidden somewhere in this mess of wood and glass.

He’d have to stop soon, though. The frigid draughts that whistled through the clock tower left him shivering despite the blanket draped over his shoulders. He wasn’t sure his hands could take much more until he’d given them a chance to recover. Garrett looked down at his hands, turning them over. The criss-crossed abrasions circling his wrists were mostly healed, though it seemed increasingly likely that he’d always carry the scars. The silvery scars running from wrist to knuckle of each hand had become all but invisible against palms chilled blue-white from hours of picking through sharp-edged glass shards and splintered wood. He clenched his hands into fists as the numbness began to fade to burning prickles.

Moonlight slanted through the glassless windows high above, illuminating the thin sprinkling of snowflakes that settled in patches across the floorboards. He hadn’t paid attention, hadn’t seen the snow begin to fall. The stones of the clock tower would be slick with ice, the footing too dangerous to attempt the climb. Garrett sucked in a breath as something tightened in his chest. He wasn’t going to make it back before Adrian woke. It was the first time he’d left Adrian’s side since they’d returned home, and he wasn’t going to make it back in time. If the ice didn’t melt quickly, he wouldn’t make it back at all.

He folded his arms tightly around himself, suppressing a shiver. There was little he could do about it now. Better to preserve what little heat he had left. He pinched out the candles and made his way downstairs.

Garrett crawled into his nest of blankets, pulling them up close around him. Draping one across his shoulders and over his head, he leaned back against the headboard. As the warmth seeped through him he closed his eyes, trying to avoid thinking about Adrian waking up alone. After a moment he lit the candle that sat on his table and retrieved the topmost book from the pile on the nearby table. He balanced the volume across his knees and opened it to the first page, running a finger gently down the central crease.

 

****

 

He jolted out of sleep to the echoes of his own choked yell, hands grasping at empty air. He doubled over, his heart hammering in his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. Clenched fists pressed against the sides of his head as he screwed his eyes shut, trying to capture the fading blue wisps. Falling … slipping through his hands and falling … fingers scrabbling for grip against slippery ice.

Garrett sucked in a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out again slowly. Just another dream. He was safe. Adrian was safe. Even Erin was safe, wherever she was. Only a dream, nothing to worry about. He should just lie down again, stay warm, go back to sleep—

Blue seared across his vision and he couldn’t hold back the strangled yelp as panic seized him.

“Adrian!”

Garrett had already thrown back the blankets and bolted toward the stairs before he realised what he was doing. Another surge washed over him and he grabbed at the railing with both hands, knees suddenly weak. Adrian never panicked.

He leaned against the railing, clutching his head in both hands, struggling to push the panic aside long enough to focus. The clock tower lit up around him and he closed his eyes, turning his attention inward. The spot in the Primal he usually associated with Adrian was raw with fear and desperation. He was close by. Close enough to reach out and touch. No … no, that couldn’t be right. Adrian wasn’t here.

Garrett took the stairs two at a time as he ran toward the window. The early morning sunlight all but blinded him as he clambered onto the sill and peered down. He caught a glimpse of movement off to the left, below the ledge that ran across the foot of the clock face. Garrett frowned, grabbing hold of the stone window surround with one hand and leaning out as far as he dared.

A figure in a Watch Captain’s jacket clung to the underside of the corbel that supported the far corner of the clock face. The man twisted in midair, booted feet skidding uselessly against the frozen stonework. From this angle Garrett couldn’t see his face, but the barely suppressed panic that buffeted him through the Primal was unmistakably Adrian’s.

Icy horror flooded through him. Garrett clutched at the window surround, unable to breathe through the tightness in his chest. He shook his head, fighting to think past the dread that paralysed him.

“Garrett!” The shout from below broke the spell as a thread of recognition and relief shot through the Primal from Adrian.

“Adrian! Hang on!”

Garrett pushed away from the windowsill and sprinted for the stairs, swinging himself over the railing to land catlike on the lower walkway near his bed. He yanked his climbing harness from its peg on the wall and threw it over his head. Fingers clumsy with haste, he pulled the side laces as tight as they would go and tied them off. Without the usual layer of leather beneath from his outfit the harness felt uncomfortably loose, but it would have to do. Adrian didn’t have time for him to waste in getting dressed. He pulled the claw holster away from the leg of his leather outfit and buckled it to his thigh over the thin cotton trousers he’d slept in.

Garrett hissed sharply through his teeth as his bare feet came into contact with the ledge that ran beneath the clock face. Within seconds he was shivering uncontrollably. He inched forward, trying to ignore the freezing burn against his hands and feet. Wintery gusts rushed past him, threatening to pluck him from the ledge and send him tumbling out into open space.

As soon as he drew level with Adrian, Garrett dropped flat against the ledge and peered cautiously over the side. Adrian stared back up at him, his remaining eye widened and red-rimmed, arms visibly shaking with strain. He grunted with effort as he curled in on himself, scraping his boots against the stonework in search of a foothold. Unable to find purchase on the frost-slick stones they slipped away again, leaving him swinging helplessly above the cobbles far below, the momentum threatening to pry his hands loose. A fresh wave of fear shot through the Primal forcing Garrett to grab hold of the ledge as it swept over him, leaving him breathless and reeling.

“Garrett!” The strangled cry was barely audible over the wind.

“Keep still, dammit!”

Garrett forced himself up, steadying himself with a hand against the clock face. He drew the claw from its holster and wedged its prongs as best he could in the crack between two stones. Taking hold of the rope with shaking hands he lowered himself over the edge.

The climbing rope snapped taut as the claw’s teeth bit into the ledge, sending Garrett swinging into the wall beneath the overhang. A surprised yelp escaped as his elbow smacked against the stone. Garrett rappelled down the few metres to where Adrian clung to the corbel. Coming to a halt level with Adrian’s feet he hung from the rope and braced his legs against the wall. Frost had blossomed over the stones but he was able to gain a measure of purchase by forcing his bare toes into the cracks where mortar had crumbled away.

“Step on my shoulders and grab the rope.”

Adrian’s feet jerked, narrowly missing Garrett’s head.

“Adrian!”

“I-I can’t. I’ll fall.”

“You’ll fall even faster if you don’t grab the rope.” Garrett sucked in a breath and reached up with one hand, trying to grab an ankle. His climbing harness creaked and shifted around him as it took his full weight. His hand closed around Adrian’s ankle and panic flooded through the Primal, crashing over him in a sudden wave. Garrett clutched blindly for the rope with both hands, screwing his eyes shut against the sudden vertigo.

“Stop doing that!”

“Shit! It’s not like I can help it.”

Garrett looked around desperately for ideas, his mind racing. Every plan he could think of relied on Adrian taking the initiative, but he needed both hands to cling to the corbel. This wasn’t going to work. Adrian needed to be safe before he could let go with either hand else he’d fall.

He looked down at his rope where it fed through the rings on his climbing harness, then up at the stones above him. Adrian’s gloved fingers were clenched into the decorative grooves carved into either side of the corbel. If there was enough grip up there for Adrian—

Before he could talk himself out of it Garrett scuttled his way back up the rope to the point where the corbel emerged from the stonework. He squeezed himself into the gap between Adrian and the wall, careful not to touch him or do anything that might disturb Adrian’s death grip. His fingers probed the ornate carvings, searching for any kind of crack or crevice he could use.

The Primal pulsed and Garrett tensed, but the surge never came. He opened his eyes to see Adrian watching him.

“What are you doing?”

Garrett ignored him, concentrating on forcing his fingers as deep into the stonework as possible. Once he found a grip he thought might hold him, he clenched his hand tight, jamming his fingers into the carved stone. His feet groped around below him until he managed to wedge his toes into a horizontal crack.

As soon as he was satisfied that the hand and footholds could support his weight, Garrett let go of the climbing rope and fumbled at the carabiner that fastened the end of his rope to his climbing harness. He yanked the rope through the loops on his harness until the carabiner came free in his hand. His stomach lurched and for a moment he was convinced he was falling.

“Garrett!” Adrian gasped, his feet flailing.

Garrett took a deep breath and let it out, gathering himself. He refused to acknowledge the burning in his lungs or the tremor working its way up his arms. He threw the end of the climbing rope out in a wide arc so that it coiled around Adrian. Garrett twisted around as far as he dared, snatching at the trailing end as it swung back toward him. Snapping the carabiner shut around the rope he formed it into a loop that fell just above Adrian’s waist. He pulled some of the slack out of the loop to make sure that it would tighten around Adrian to catch him as he dropped.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Grab the rope and climb up.” Garrett clenched his fingers tighter, trying to ignore how the hard edges of the carved stone dug into his palm.

“I can’t! Garrett—”

“The rope will catch you. Grab it and climb up.”

“But—”

“Adrian! Listen to me.” Garrett ran his free hand over the corbel, desperately searching for a second handhold to take some of his weight. The icy stone burned against his hands and feet. “If you don’t grab that rope, we are both going to die.”

“Wait—”

“I need you to climb up to the ledge and lower the rope for me.”

“But I can’t—”

“Adrian.” Garrett fought to keep his voice steady even as the numbing cold crept through his hands. He raised his head to meet Adrian’s terrified stare. “You have about a minute to lower the rope for me, or I’m going to fall.”

Adrian’s eye shot wide as he looked up at his hands. He shook his head violently, feet scraping against the wall next to Garrett. “No! I can’t … you can’t. Shit!”

Garrett gritted his teeth and focused intently on his own hands, forcing numb fingers to curl tighter. He shook his head, tried to blink away the cold sweat trailing down his forehead. His eyes stung but he couldn’t look away, couldn’t risk leaving an opening for the thread of doubt that insisted his nerveless fingers clasped only empty air.

The Primal surged and he cringed, his own whimper an echo to Adrian’s panicked yell. The whipcrack of the rope snapping tight startled the crows from their roost. Garrett froze, not daring to breathe until he heard the pained cursing somewhere below him. He strained his ears for the scrape of boots against stone. The climbing rope hung taut, creaking as Adrian’s weight jerked against it. Sobbing gasps crept closer as Adrian scaled the rope next to him.

Garrett risked turning to look for Adrian. The world tilted around him and he gasped for breath, heart hammering against his ribs as if he’d been sprinting. He wrenched his head back up, certain his grip had failed. No. His hands still clung fast to the stone. As long as he could see his hands he didn’t need to feel them – he just had to hang on.

Gusts of wind tugged at him, billowing out the sleeves of his thin cotton shirt. Snow swirled about him, catching in his hair and clothes, painting the stones white. Garrett grimaced, trying to suppress the shivering before it could tear his hands free. Everything faded, the harsh cawing of the crows coming from somewhere impossibly far away.

Something struck the stones next to him, but he didn’t dare turn to look. Faint scraping traced an arc back and forth below him before coming to a stop.

“Garrett!”

He flinched as a stab of fear pulsed through the Primal but it felt oddly muted, as if Adrian was trying to dampen the sickly waves. Garrett flicked his gaze sideways to find the climbing rope hanging beside him. It was empty. The breath rushed out of him in a shaky murmur, leaving him giddy with relief.

At first his hands refused to unclamp themselves from the stones. Slowly, he forced the fingers of his left hand to relax. He reached to take hold of the rope, watching carefully to make sure it settled firmly across his palm. He tugged gently at the rope to test his grip before bringing the other to join it. The rope swung out into open space, the change in angle dislodging his feet from their precarious foothold. Unable to feel for the rope they scrabbled uselessly in midair. Adrian shouted something but the whistling of the wind in his ears stole the words away, drowning them beneath the thundering of his own pulse.

The rope jerked. Garrett let out a surprised yelp as he was dragged upward, his grip tightening. A second jerk and the rope swung sideways, his shoulder bouncing off the corbel. He lurched upward another few inches as Adrian pulled up the rope hand over hand.

After what felt like forever, Adrian’s firm grip closed over his wrist. He was yanked upward, enfolded in a crushing embrace until his feet barely brushed the snow-covered ledge. Hot tears spilled onto his shoulder as Adrian clung to him desperately, muttering something that Garrett couldn’t make out. For a few seconds he allowed himself to relax, shuddering as the tension bled from his limbs. But they weren’t safe yet. Reluctantly Garrett pushed Adrian’s hands away.

Traversing the ledge beneath the clock face was painstakingly slow. The morning sun glinting off the snow all but blinded him. Distantly, he watched his bare feet skid away from him over the ice, but felt nothing. A wave of vertigo swept over him and he was certain he had stepped out into empty air. He recoiled, squeezing his eyes shut against the vision of cobblestones rushing up to meet him.

“It’s alright – you’re alright. I’ve got you.”

Adrian’s arm looped firmly around his waist, the reassuring bulk an anchor, tacit confirmation that the stones remained solid beneath numbed and frozen feet. He was drawn backward, held tight against the ragged heaving of Adrian’s chest.

Climbing in through the window was a tight fit for both of them at once, but Adrian refused to let go of him even for a second. The comforting shadows of the clock tower closed around them as they scrambled over the sill. Garrett’s knees buckled before they had taken a step and he slid to the floor. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly in a struggle to contain the shaking, overwhelmed by the surges of relief and spikes of terror that buffeted the Primal. Adrian thumped down onto his knees beside him, clutching at him with trembling arms. Garrett buried his face into Adrian’s shoulder, the clenched knot in his chest gradually easing as he listened to Adrian’s racing heartbeat stuttering and slowing into a steady rhythm that matched the resonant ticking of the clock. Adrian’s cheek rested against the top of his head, the hot breath ghosting through his hair and across the back of his neck. The low hum of Adrian’s exhaustion seeped through the Primal to mingle with his own until he could no longer distinguish between them.

Garrett couldn’t say how long they huddled there on the floor beneath the window. At last he felt Adrian take a deeper breath, lifting his head.

“Garrett?” A hand cupped his cheek, stroked his hair.

He tried to answer but his teeth chattered too much for him to form words. He shivered and curled himself closer into Adrian, trying to escape the chill draught that spilled in through the open window and sent eddies of snowflakes dancing across the floor.

“Shit, you’re freezing!”

Adrian rose to his feet and disentangled himself from the climbing rope, leaving it and the claw in a heap on the floor. Scooping Garrett into his arms he lurched down the stairs, leaning into the handrail for balance. Garrett was deposited on the bed and the blankets drawn up around him. A hand gently smoothed over his hair before Adrian straightened and turned away toward the sparse area that prior to the raid on the clock tower had been Garrett’s kitchen. Garrett curled into a ball as he clutched at the blankets with numb fingers, watching Adrian light the small camping stove and set a pan of water on to boil.

Adrian turned back to the bed, tugging off his leather gauntlets and opening the fastenings of his uniform jacket. Tossing it away to the side, he pulled back the blankets just enough that he could slide underneath to sit on the edge of the mattress in his shirtsleeves. Garrett was pulled close to sit with his back pressed against Adrian’s chest, the blankets tucked up around them both. One of his hands was captured between Adrian’s palms and rubbed gently.

“I’m sorry, Garrett.” Adrian dropped his forehead onto Garrett’s shoulder, breathing out with a shuddering sigh.

Garrett blinked, turning his head to look up at Adrian. “What for?”

“I nearly got you killed. Again.”

Garrett looked away, unsure how to respond to that. Adrian was right in a sense – if he hadn’t tried to climb the clock tower in the snow then he wouldn’t have needed rescuing. But it was his own fault for yet again failing to get back to Adrian in time. If he’d paid more attention and returned before the snow began falling, Adrian would never have had to come looking for him.

Adrian made a small noise in the back of his throat, his hands gripping Garrett’s tightly. “I’m so sorry. I wanted to check on you, make sure you were alright, and all I did was put you in harm’s way again.”

“No.”

Adrian lifted his head, brows drawn together in confusion. “But—”

“It’s not your fault.” Garrett twisted around to look Adrian in the eye, resting his free hand against the scar on Adrian’s chest. After a few seconds he dropped his gaze to the blanket, unable to look at the leather eyepatch without flinching. He’d been too slow – too late, and Adrian had paid for his mistake.

Steam hissed from the pan on the stove, startling them both. Adrian stood and went over to locate the teapot. Garrett pulled the blanket closer about himself, the sudden loss of contact sending chills running down his spine. He lifted a hand, intending to reach out, to pull Adrian back, but quickly dropped it again, chiding himself.

“How on earth do you manage that climb in weather like this? Even with that hook of yours, there just isn’t enough grip.” Adrian had his back to him, fussing with the tin of tea.

“I don’t.”

Adrian turned, head cocked to one side. “Come again?”

“Like you said, it’s too dangerous to make the climb when it’s icy. So I don’t climb it.”

“But doesn’t that leave you stranded up here?”

Garrett nodded, shrugging. It had never really bothered him all that much. It was usually only for a few weeks at most until the thaw came. Besides, it wasn’t as if there were anywhere he could go. Any ice bad enough to confine him to the clock tower rendered the City rooftops almost as dangerous, and snow meant leaving behind footsteps to betray his passing. Basso always knew better than to expect him until the weather cleared, and in previous years Jenivere had been there to ferry messages and to keep him company every so often.

Adrian scooped the tea leaves into the pot, shaking his head. “I suppose that does explain why there’s a dip in reported thefts most winters.”

Garrett picked at a loose thread on the blanket, trying to hide the smirk. “It’s not all me. Any blackhand relying on the thieves’ highway in the snow is asking for a broken neck.”

“So that’s why you went missing. You got stranded.” Adrian poured tea into two mugs and brought them over to the bed.

Garrett gripped his mug in both hands, hissing softly as the heat triggered painful tingles through his fingers. Adrian took up his customary position on the floor at the foot of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. For a few moments neither spoke, the only sound the gusts of wind whistling through the upper windows.

Adrian’s soft voice broke the uncomfortable silence. “So if you knew you would be stuck up here, why did you come?”

Garrett clenched his fingers around his mug, staring fixedly into it as if the answer were hiding within. What could he say? He couldn’t tell Adrian about the mechanical eye. Not yet – not until he knew for certain it would work. It would be cruel to raise Adrian’s hopes now only to dash them later if the attempt was a failure.

“I … needed to finish cleaning up here.” Garrett couldn’t look up, couldn’t bear to catch Adrian’s gaze.

Adrian frowned, tapping a fingernail against the tin mug. “I know you need something familiar. You’ve been through hell these past months. I’m sorry—”

“No, that’s not it.” Garrett shook his head. His knuckles were white where he gripped the mug. He forced his fingers to relax, setting it down on the blanket. “I can’t replace anything until the wreckage is gone. My tools, my equipment – all of it needs repairing.”

“I can get you whatever you need. Anything.”

“Adrian—”

“No, listen. I can get you everything you need, and you can stay with me at August’s house.” Adrian set the mug on the floor next to him and twisted to face Garrett, his expression lighting up. “You don’t need to stay trapped up here alone – I can set up one of the guest bedrooms as a workshop for you.”

Garrett pressed his lips together, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. He hated this. Lying was something he’d never mastered – had never needed to try. It had always been far easier to simply vanish, to avoid the confrontation altogether.

“Your brother barely tolerates me already. He wouldn’t—”

“Don’t worry about August. He’ll be fine with it. I can talk to him, explain everything.”

“August knows what I do. You think the current head of the Watch will take kindly to keeping stolen goods in his home?”

Adrian grimaced, letting out a sigh. “Probably not.”

Garrett kept his gaze fixed on the bed in front of him as he took a swallow of the tea, avoiding Adrian’s efforts to catch his eye. Still too hot it scalded across his tongue, making him inhale sharply.

“You’re not coming back down with me.”

At the flat, defeated tone Garrett finally looked up. Adrian sat hunched over, his face partially hidden by the wisps of hair that had fallen out of the tie. Garrett took a slow breath, letting it out through gritted teeth. A spiral of pain shot through him at the thought of disappointing Adrian, but if he returned home with him now, he’d only have to come back to the clock tower later and risk hurting him all over again.

“Can’t you come back?” Adrian lifted his head and for a moment Garrett couldn’t breathe at the sight of the naked pleading in the green and gold eye. “Does it have to be now? Can’t you come home now and do this later after the ice melts?”

“I-I need this. Adrian … I can’t stay with you forever.”

Even before he’d finished speaking, Garrett knew they were the wrong words. Adrian’s head dropped onto his forearms, his shoulders curling inward. A shudder ran through the broad frame.

“Adrian…” Garrett swallowed thickly. He shoved back the blanket and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

Adrian levered himself to his feet and Garrett winced seeing the blank, shuttered expression. “R-right. I’ll leave you be … stop bothering you.”

Retrieving his gloves and jacket, Adrian stumbled up the stairs toward the window, Garrett trailing behind. He grabbed the coil of rope that sat on the floor and fed one end of it through the pulley Garrett used for hauling up crates from the rooftop below. As he went to tie the end of it around his waist Garrett stepped forward, putting a hand out to cover Adrian’s.

“Let me.” Without waiting for a reply Garrett took the rope from Adrian and looped it around him into a makeshift climbing harness. Focusing intently on the rope in his hands, Garrett kept his head lowered. He couldn’t bear to see the hurt in Adrian’s eye, couldn’t face the betrayal he knew would be there. He couldn’t take the words back now – the damage was already done.

Adrian cleared his throat awkwardly. “I’ll come back to check on you.”

“It’s not safe.”

“I … alright.” Garrett sucked in a startled breath as Adrian laid a hand on his shoulder, cupping his cheek with the other. Warm lips pressed against his forehead for a moment and then were gone, leaving chills in their wake.

Garrett turned away as Adrian began his slow descent. He sat on the top step and crossed his arms over his chest, letting his head fall forward. He swallowed, trying to will away the surge of nausea. The insistent squeaking of the pulley grated in his ears long after the scraping of Adrian’s boots against the stones had faded.

He slowly became aware of the biting gale from the window that sent frost prickling over his skin. Curling in on himself against the renewed shivering he pulled himself to his feet and dragged himself downstairs. Longingly, he glanced over at the tangled blankets on his bed. No. He needed to get back to Adrian, to banish that wounded expression. He didn’t have time to curl up in the warmth until he’d found the mechanical eye.

Garrett pulled a blanket from the bed and draped it across his shoulders. He crouched at the edge of the heap of splinters and glass, sifting through it with outstretched fingers. Eventually the squeaking of the pulley fell silent, although by then he barely heard it.


	2. Chapter 2

Adrian pushed open the study door and poked his head into the room. August slouched at the desk, chin resting in one hand as he scribbled notes into a ledger. A fire crackled in the grate, casting a warm glow over the bookshelves lining the walls.

“Got a minute?”

August looked up, setting his pen down. He lifted his hand, beckoning Adrian in. “Is everything alright?”

Adrian nodded, dropping into one of the wingback chairs that flanked the fireplace. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Adrian?” August took the chair across from him, watching him intently.

“I want Garrett to stay here.”

August steepled his hands in his lap, leaning back in the chair. “I was under the impression that Garrett is already staying here.”

“No, not like that. I want him to have his own room. I know you don’t like it but hear me out. It’s not like you haven’t got the space. He could have the room next to mine, above the porch. That way he could come and go without bothering anyone—”

August raised a hand, cutting him off mid-flow. “Where’s this coming from?”

“He can’t stay up in the clock tower all winter – it’s too dangerous with all the ice. He could get trapped up there for weeks.”

August said nothing, but Adrian could feel the keen gaze boring into him. He fidgeted in the chair, his gaze darting around the room as he tried to avoid his brother’s scrutiny.

The silence stretched out for several minutes before August took a breath, crossing one leg over the other knee. “Surely the situation must have been the same last year, and the year before that? Garrett must be well used to enduring the winter months in the clock tower. What makes this year different?”

“I …” Adrian pushed himself to his feet and moved to stand before the fire. Its warmth seeped through him, easing aches he hadn’t realised were there. He rubbed the back of his neck, scowling. “You don’t know what he’s been through – what he’s suffered these past months. I just can’t bear the thought of him up there alone. What if he has another episode and I’m not there to help him?”

“Garrett’s a grown man, Adrian.”

One of the logs in the grate hissed as it tumbled forward, lodging itself against the fireguard. Adrian reached for the poker, grateful for the distraction.

“This isn’t about Garrett, is it? It’s about you.”

“But—”

“Ri, think for a moment.”

Adrian stabbed at the log, sending a flurry of sparks up the chimney. “I … I need to know that he’s alright.” He sighed, closing his eye. “I need him, August.”

There was a rustle behind him. A warm hand closed over his shoulder. “You love him, don’t you.” Adrian nodded. The hand on his shoulder squeezed gently then fell away. “Talk to me, Adrian. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Adrian let the poker fall clattering onto the hearth and slumped back down into the chair. He let his head drop back against the cushion, one hand draped across his forehead.

“I know you haven’t been sleeping.” August paused, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Adrian groaned under his breath. He didn’t need this. If August wasn’t going to let Garrett stay, then he should just say so. He wasn’t in the mood for brotherly advice right now. Not while Garrett was halfway across the City and refusing to come home. He rubbed at the skin under his eyepatch where the healing burns still itched. Home? When had Garrett’s constant presence become so vital a part of him? Garrett’s home was in the clock tower, not here at August’s. Maybe he was deluding himself, thinking that Garrett would agree to stay with him. Maybe he should leave Garrett alone the way he clearly wanted to be left. He needed Garrett, needed to know that he was safe and well. But maybe Garrett didn’t need him. At least, not the way he wanted to be needed—

“Adrian!”

He flinched, head jerking back to thump against the cushion. “What?”

“Are you alright?”

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

August retrieved the poker and returned it to its rightful place. “How is your eye feeling? Does it still pain you? If it bothers you then I can give you something for it.”

“A little.”

“With all you’ve been through I’m not surprised that you’re having nightmares. I know things must be difficult for you right now, but you need to move on, Adrian. Dwelling on what she did to you isn’t going to bring your eye back.”

“I’m not—”

“I can’t force you to talk to me if you don’t want to, but Adrian, please don’t lie to me. I doubt that it’s Garrett who keeps stepping on that creaky floorboard in your room.”

Adrian glanced sharply at his brother before his gaze slid away. He stared at the rug between his feet, uncomfortably aware of the flush stealing across his cheeks. “Fine. Sometimes, I … yes. But it’s not a problem. Garrett—”

“You shouldn’t rely so much on a thief, Adrian.”

“And the piracy business is any better? Don’t be a hypocrite.”

August sighed. Adrian looked up to see him leaning against the mantelpiece, thumb and forefinger pinched between his eyes as if to ward off a headache. “That’s not what I meant, although you will have to be more careful. You’re a Watch Captain now, you can’t be seen associating with criminals. If it becomes common knowledge, I won’t be able to look the other way for you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Can you?” August turned to face him. “Sometimes it seems you have two shadows, these days. It’s true that you never stumble on the stairs or walk into doorframes, but that’s because Garrett’s trailing you around everywhere. You can’t rely on him always being there to take care of you. You need to stand on your own feet, Adrian.”

Adrian squeezed his eye shut, clutching blindly for the arm of the chair to steady himself, to brace himself against the void he felt opening up beneath his feet.

“Adrian?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.”

“It’s …” Adrian rubbed a hand over his face, taking a deep breath, holding it and letting it out slowly. “Garrett said the same. Earlier. That – that he won’t stay with me forever.”

Footsteps moved across the room to the desk. A moment later a glass was pushed into his hand and he caught the sharp tang of whiskey.

“Adrian, Garrett is a thief. In his line of work he can’t afford entanglements. I know you and he became close on the trip with all you went through together, but now that you’re back in the City I’m not surprised he’s returning to his usual habits.”

“But he’s not just a thief. He’s more than that.”

“Even so, what did you expect? You’ve known him for, what? Four months?”

Adrian nodded, taking a gulp of the whiskey. It burned going down, leaving a warm knot in his stomach.

“You knew Rylan two years before you and he were together. I know you’re infatuated with Garrett, but you hardly know him.”

“That’s not true!” Adrian glared at his brother as August dropped into the other chair.

August leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees, twisting his glass between his palms. “It’s clear that you think the world of him, and I have to say that it’s a relief to see you finally moving on from grieving Rylan. But if you continue like this you are going to get yourself hurt. I don’t think I can bear watching you go through that again.”

“This is different. Garrett’s—”

“Is it? From the sound of it, Garrett is already pulling away from you. And right now I don’t blame him.”

Adrian jerked his head up, hissing sharply between his teeth. He slammed the glass down onto a nearby table and shoved himself to his feet. That was enough. He didn’t have to listen to August lecturing him like he was still in short trousers. It had been infuriating enough back then and he didn’t need it now. If Garrett couldn’t stay here then they’d figure something else out. Maybe they should both find somewhere else to live. Twisting the knob with a savage jerk he yanked the door open.

“Adrian.” The quiet, commanding voice stopped him in his tracks. It was the same tone his brother had always used on him when he’d let his temper get the better of him. Keeping hold of the door, he looked back over his shoulder.

“What? Planning to lecture me some more?”

“Just one question, then you can storm out of here and sulk as much as you please.”

Adrian bristled, narrowing his eye at his brother before giving a single curt nod.

“You came to me because you want Garrett to live here for the winter, and knowing you, mostly likely indefinitely. Did you talk to Garrett about this plan before you came here, and did he agree to this?”

“I …” Adrian trailed off. He looked down at the doorknob in his hand and sighed, letting his head drop forward. “No.”

August nodded. “I thought so. Sit down, Adrian. Before you do something you’ll regret later.”

“Fine.”

August steepled his hands in his lap, patiently waiting until Adrian settled himself stiffly back in the chair. Once Adrian had knocked back the dregs in his glass August took a slow breath, looking away toward the fire with a pained expression. When he finally spoke, Adrian had to strain to hear the soft words.

“Do you remember Arielle?”

Adrian stared down at the glass in his hands, wishing it were full again. He hadn’t drunk nearly enough yet to face that memory. It had been years since he’d last thought of his little lion. He’d wheedled and begged for years, promising faithfully over and over that he could be responsible and grown up, but every time Aldric had just shaken his head and said that Adrian wasn’t ready, that they couldn’t handle another mouth to feed. By his ninth birthday he’d given up hope and given up asking. That evening Aldric had returned from his job at the docks, his cap cradled in one hand. He’d lowered it just enough for Adrian to peek inside, where a tiny scrap of smoke grey fluff stared back up at him with wide porcelain blue eyes.

He hung his head, angling his face away so that August wouldn’t see, cradling the glass as if a lifeline.

“Adrian?”

His throat burned and he choked, trying to force the words out. “I remember.”

She’d felt so small, so fragile. As Aldric had settled her into his hands, Adrian was convinced that the slender bones of her legs and tail would snap under the barest of pressure. He had held her in his cupped palms, terrified to move in case he hurt her somehow. She’d yawned delicately and stretched out one white paw, five tiny pins just pricking through the skin into the meat of his thumb.

Arielle had been fearless, forever stalking and wrestling with the dust mice that flocked beneath the beds. Amaury had made snide comments about her being useless in a real fight, but had wisely stayed his tongue after the dozenth time August had to prise them apart before he throttled his elder brother. She had adored him, constantly demanding he pick her up so she could ride on his shoulder and chew his hair. The only thing his tiny lion had feared were the rolls of thunder that crashed over the bay as the winter storms drew in. From her usual spot on his pillow she would crawl down to join him under the covers, curling beneath his chin. He’d stay awake most of the night petting her, humming under his breath to drown out the sound of the rain pelting against the windows.

“I didn’t mean to…” Adrian trailed off as his voice cracked. He gripped the arm of the chair, burying his face behind his hand. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He dragged the back of his hand roughly across his eye, scowling at the damp trail left behind on his cheek. The skin beneath the eyepatch itched and stung as salt burned in the empty socket.

“I know, Adrian.” There was a gentleness to August’s voice he hadn’t heard for a long time. Not since after that mess in Illyria ten years ago when he’d found August keeping vigil over his bedside. “You were trying to take care of her.”

When he’d woken that morning, at first he hadn’t realised that there was anything wrong. Arielle had been curled against his chest where he’d held her close, had pulled the blankets tightly around them both to keep them warm. He’d combed his fingers through her soft fur to wake her. But she hadn’t … she didn’t—

“Why? Why now?” Adrian forced the words through gritted teeth, clutching at the armrest to prevent himself from flying apart.

“You meant well, Adrian. You always mean well. You always were a loving child. Even more so, now you’re a man.” A shadow fell over him and Adrian startled as the glass was pulled out of his hand and set on the table. He raised his head to see August kneeling next to the chair. “But good intentions aren’t always enough.”

Adrian took the offered handkerchief and crumpled it in his fist. “It was my fault. I—”

“Arielle suffocated because you held her too tight. The blanket was over her head and she couldn’t escape. It wasn’t your fault, Adrian. But it was your doing.” August’s hand closed over his own, gently pulling it away from the armrest. “Don’t make the same mistake with Garrett.”

“But—”

“Adrian, if Garrett needs to pull away from you, you have to let him. If you hold on too tightly then you’re going to drive him away altogether, or you’re going to get him killed. Either way, you’ll lose him.”

Ice twisted in his guts. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think past the splintering in his chest and the roaring of his pulse in his ears. Adrian closed his eye as August blurred and wavered, no longer able to fight back the sobs that threatened to shake him loose.

He curled in on himself, only dimly aware of August pulling back and moving away. The whiskey decanter was set down with a soft thud on the table next to him. August sighed, and a warm hand rested on the top of his bowed head before brushing the hair back from his face.

“Don’t stay up all night, Adrian. Try to get some rest. Come find me if you need me.”

The hand withdrew. There was a click as the study door swung shut, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

 

****

 

The worst of the wind had died overnight to leave behind a biting cold that seared his lungs despite the woollen scarf he’d draped around his neck. Slick to the touch, the stones of the clock tower glittered in the pale sunlight which offered light, but no warmth. Wary of a repeat of the previous morning, Adrian was careful to avoid relying on the treacherous footing. The blacksmith had regarded him suspiciously earlier when he’d asked to purchase a rope and grappling hook, but he would never have dared attempt the climb without its help.

Each time Adrian paused to recover his breath he found himself plunged back into the memory of dangling helplessly as his grip slowly but inexorably weakened, leaving him breathless and shaking. It was easier to keep going despite the growing ache in his limbs, better to concentrate on nothing more than the mindless repetition of throwing the hook to wrap around the next crossbeam. He tried to avoid thinking about how he’d tackle the upper portion of the climb once the scaffolding petered out to leave nothing but the frosted stones for grip.

Adrian wrapped his legs firmly around the scaffolding to secure himself before he tugged at the straps around his shoulders, trying to shift the bulky knapsack higher on his back. The hard edges of the books dug into his shoulder blades and he cursed himself for not taking better care to wrap them in the cloak stuffed into the bottom. He just hoped that Elsie’s gift wouldn’t be reduced to crumbs by the time he reached the window. Somehow she’d anticipated his plan to check on Garrett, and had stopped him as he slipped out through the back porch, pressing a waxed paper parcel into his hands.

He’d intended to make the climb at first light in the hope of arriving before Garrett went to bed, but by the time August had shaken him awake and turfed him out of the study it was already mid-morning. Garrett would have been asleep hours ago. Maybe it was for the best – maybe it was better, to avoid disturbing him.

By the time Adrian hauled himself up to the topmost crossbeam of the scaffolding he was sweating from exertion. He clung to the beam for a few moments until his heart no longer hammered in his chest and he could breathe without gasping for air. Now came the hard part. Surely as long as he was careful he could avoid making the same mistake again. He sat upright and looked up to figure out what to do next. Something cold and hard smacked into the back of his head as metal clinked against metal.

“Ow!”

Rubbing at his head with one hand, Adrian twisted around to get a better look. Someone had screwed two sturdy metal eyehooks into the highest upright post of the scaffolding. That was new. Had someone been up here since yesterday? Each hook had a stout rope tied around it. He pulled at one of the ropes, tracing its path upward. The ropes stretched diagonally upward in a loose arc across the face of the clock tower, and the far end—

Adrian let out a bark of startled laughter, catching hold of the beam to steady himself as something fluttered in his chest. Both ropes disappeared in through the open window next to the clock face, presumably tied off to something inside. Suddenly breathless for reasons entirely unconnected to the climb, he carefully swung his legs over the crossbeam until he was facing the right way. A small tangle of thinner-stranded climbing rope hung next to one of the hooks, clipped to a carabiner that had been threaded through the main rope. Adrian tugged at it, his breath hitching as he recognised the loops and knots of the climbing harness Garrett had tied for him the previous morning. The other rope was knotted at regular intervals, promising a succession of firm handholds even through ice.

Wriggling into the harness without slipping off the crossbeam took several minutes, but once he was done it fit snugly around him. Climbing his way hand over hand up the knotted rope came as second nature to him, the movements conditioned into his muscles from years of clambering through ship rigging.

A few minutes later Adrian scrambled in through the window, pausing on the sill to disentangle himself from the rope harness. Inside, the clock tower was filled with shadows, punctuated by shafts of light that fell from the open windows high above. The air was still and frigid, grey ash lying scattered on the floorboards beneath the empty fire basket.

“Garrett?”

There was no response, though he hadn’t expected one. The stairs creaked softly as Adrian made his way down, stepping as lightly as he could to avoid waking Garrett. As he reached the bottom the shadows began to resolve themselves as his vision adjusted. There didn’t seem to have been much change to the amount of wreckage strewn across the floor where Garrett had kept his display cases. Some of the piles might have been shifted around, but it was hard to tell in the dim light.

Garrett was hidden beneath a tangle of blankets, nothing showing save for the long fingers of one hand clutching at the pillow. Adrian dropped the knapsack onto the floor, wincing as the buckles jingled against the floorboards. He froze, not daring to breathe until Garrett sighed and rolled over to face him. The topmost blanket slipped a little, exposing the curve of one thin shoulder. A thread of pain wound its way through Adrian at the sight of pale skin stretched tight over protruding collarbones. He should never have allowed Rozzen to get her claws into Garrett. He’d promised to keep him safe, but had broken that promise over and over. It was a miracle Garrett would even still talk to him, let alone still trust him. No wonder Garrett was pulling away – all he’d achieved was to put him in harm’s way at every turn.

Adrian took up his customary spot at the foot of the bed. He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the edge of the straw mattress, letting the steady ticking of the massive clock seep through him, listening to Garrett’s slow, even breaths. Just knowing that Garrett was safe had the knots in his stomach easing. He ought to get up, to do what he’d come for and leave again. Garrett had made it clear he needed space, and would likely be upset and angry if he woke to find Adrian hovering over him. He’d get up soon. Just a little longer.

The crows nesting up in the eaves erupted into noisy squabbling, sending up a short-lived flurry of coal black feathers that drifted through the air before they fell into the workings of the clock. Adrian jerked his head up, wincing at the stiffness in his neck. He glanced up at the massive clock face, scowling. Already past noon. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep. Twisting round to check on Garrett, he breathed a sigh of relief to see him still sleeping. Adrian clambered to his feet, trying to stifle the groan that threatened to escape. The chill in the air had worked its way bone-deep, and his joints protested the sudden movement. He flexed his legs carefully, stretching out the threatening cramps before they could take hold.

Taking up the knapsack he set it on the table in the kitchen area, fumbling at the buckles. He stacked the small assortment of books next to Elsie’s gift. These past few weeks since they’d been rescued, Garrett had been steadily working his way through Adrian’s bookshelves. Adrian had packed the last book he’d seen Garrett holding, along with its sequel and a few others he thought he might enjoy. The lined cloak was next, and Adrian held the folded bundle close against his chest. It had been the first gift he’d given Garrett, that morning when he’d rescued his thief from the basement of the Crippled Burrick after the Watch had torched the place. The heavy dark wool was soft to the touch and he pressed it to his cheek, closing his eye.

The bedframe creaked. Adrian looked round as Garrett shifted in his sleep. He dropped the cloak onto the table and stepped closer to the bed, a cold weight settling in his stomach at the soft whimper. A haunted shadow flickered across Garrett’s face before he curled tighter around the pillow, fingernails scraping across the rough cotton. Adrian knelt beside the bed, laying a hand on Garrett’s shoulder.

“Hush, now. You’re safe. She’s not here.”

He gently combed his fingers through the soft black hair, murmuring reassurances until the shaking subsided and Garrett relaxed under his hands. Adrian leaned forward to press his lips to Garrett’s forehead, breathing in the scent of warm leather. August could insist all he liked that Garrett didn’t need his help, but the thought of abandoning him to face Rozzen’s ghost alone was a sliver of guilt that lodged under his skin and set his teeth on edge.

Adrian sat back on his heels with his hands clasped together in his lap, fighting the urge to take Garrett in his arms and never let go. He dropped his head as his vision blurred, breath catching in his throat as he let it out slowly.

“I’m sorry, Garrett.” He kept his voice soft, wary of waking him. He should go. There was nothing to be gained by staying. But he couldn’t bring himself to move. Something in him rebelled at leaving without saying something, even if Garrett couldn’t hear him. “I promised you nothing would happen without your permission. I promised you that I didn’t expect anything from you. I – I didn’t mean to push too hard.”

Adrian leaned down, his fingertips brushing lightly across Garrett’s cheek. “I would do anything for you.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Even this.”

Turning away felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done. Somehow he resisted looking back until he was clear of the window and working his way back down the knotted rope. He just had to be patient and trust his thief. Garrett would come home when he was ready. This wasn’t goodbye. Not really.

**Author's Note:**

> Adrian and August Barbeaux are the creation of [Brohne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/brohne/pseuds/brohne), and are used with permission.


End file.
